Rime of the Ancient Warriner's

In honor of teacher appreciation week, I share a lovely poem, especially for those of us who teach composition.  (HT: Cindy Marsch :-)

The Rime of the Ancient Warriner’s by Robert Boynton

It is an ancient Warriner’s
And it stoppeth every wight
From doing what is best to do
When learning how to write.

It mixes skills and drills and frills
With exhortation solemn,
And stacks itself on classroom shelves
Column after column.

Amoeba-like, it splits itself
Into scope and sequence clones,
With names alike as Mike and Ike
And wholly writ by drones.

(It transmogrifies itself with ease Into
Little, Brown, and Hodges
And Bedford, Crews and Ebbitts
And a hundred other stodges.)

It names the parts and modes and marks
It’s a taxonomic rite—
And multitudes are led through it,
And still they cannot write,

 And go as ones that have been stunned
And are of sense forlorn,
Much sadder and unwiser wights
Than ever they was born.